Sign of Evil

by M A Comley

  “Okay, that’s all for now, Craig. We’ll be back soon. Do your best. That’s all any of us can do at this stage.” Carla jabbed the End Call button.

  “What did he say?”

  “After he picked his chin up off the floor, he told me there’s an airfield in the area at Leominster. He’s given me the address, if you want to check it out.”

  Sara inserted her key in the ignition and kicked the engine into life. “We have a busy morning ahead of us, looks like our coming into work today has been justified already.”

  “Are you sure you’re not some kind of witch? Or psychic? Did you know something like this was about to happen today?”

  “Did I fuck. Right, let’s get cracking.”

  “What first?”

  “Knocking on the doors, in the hope someone can corroborate hearing a plane in the area.”

  The first farmer they questioned was reluctant to speak to them. He was a withered old man who walked with a cane and barely heard what Sara asked him, even though she shouted her questions.

  They gave up trying and moved on to the second farm. The door was opened by a friendly lady in her early fifties. “Hello, how can I help?”

  Sara produced her ID and stated the reason they were there. “I don’t suppose you heard a plane flying around the area either last night or early this morning, did you?”

  “Why yes, yes I did. It was around nine, maybe nine-fifteen last night. Hubby came in, said he’d seen it while he was checking on the cows in the barn, bedding them down for the night.”

  “Excellent news. Can you tell us anything else about the plane?”

  “Not really, dear. It sounded like an annoying fly to me. No, wait, hubby came in and said he’d heard the engine struggling a bit at some point. He rushed outside because he feared it was going to come down on the barn.”

  “Interesting. Was it flying low then, is that what you’re saying?”

  “Why don’t I call hubby to speak to you? Come inside, out of the cold. I was just about to pop the kettle on, fancy a brew? I’m Maureen by the way.”

  “Sounds wonderful, any chance of a coffee?” Sara asked.

  “I’m sure we have some in the back of the cupboard. Come through.”

  Sara and Carla followed the woman into a very dated kitchen that was heated by an Aga, chucking out an obscene amount of heat.

  “Take a seat. I’ll ring Bob, see if he can spare you a few minutes. He’s out there, tending the cattle, should be due back soon, so don’t go thinking you’re putting him out, you’re not. We always have a cuppa around now, anyway.” The back door opened before she had the chance to pick up the phone. “Ah, there you are, Bob. We have visitors.”

  “I can see that,” he grumbled. He took out a pouch of tobacco and started rolling a cigarette. “Who are ye, and what do ye want from us?”

  “They’re the police, love. They’re here about that plane we heard last night. I was just about to call you. Can you tell them what you heard and saw?”

  “Can’t say it was much. Thought the darn thing was going to come down on the bloody barn. There was a strange noise coming from the engine, then it appeared to right itself. What was a plane doing going out at that time of night if there was a problem with it? That’s what I want to know. People need to have more sense than to fly when it’s pitch black. Now, don’t you go expecting me to give you any more than that because I have nothing. Why do you want to know?”

  Sara smiled at the man who continued to roll his cigarette. “One of your neighbours discovered a body in his field this morning. Our pathologist believes the victim came from a plane, hence our enquiries.”

  “Well, bugger me. Is that right? Jesus, it couldn’t have been the pilot, otherwise the darn thing would have come down. Which neighbour?”

  “Mr Pullman.”

  “Oh shit! Poor Dick, I hope he’s okay? He’s got a dodgy ticker, needs to take more care of himself, he does.”

  “He seemed fine when we left. Maybe you can drop by later, make sure he’s okay.”

  He tapped his forehead. “I’ve already thought about that. I don’t need no copper telling me what to do with regard to my neighbour’s welfare, thanks very much.”

  His wife slapped his arm, almost knocking the tobacco off the paper. “Now, Bob, you apologise this instant. That comment was uncalled for.”

  Sara raised a hand. “It’s fine. We have broad shoulders.”

  The kettle boiled and the farmer’s wife made the drinks.

  “Is there anything else you can tell us, Bob?” Sara asked. She prepared herself for getting her head bitten off again, but the farmer surprised her.

  “No, nothing that I can think of. I thought it strange that the plane should fly overhead. Actually, now that I think about it, we’ve had a lot of activity with planes flying over this week. I know we’re close to the airfield, but we can usually count the number of planes we hear fly past on one hand over the course of the month. Ain’t that right, Mo?”

  His wife nodded, slowly at first until her head gathered momentum. “I never thought about it. Now that you’ve mentioned it, I can count at least three times we’ve heard a plane nearby this week.”

  Carla jotted down the information. “That’s interesting,” Sara stated. “I don’t suppose you can remember which days?”

  “I can’t, not off the top of my head. What about you, Bob?”

  “Monday, I seem to recall. It was earlier though, much earlier. I’m inclined to say it was during the day.”

  “In the morning or afternoon?”

  Bob scratched the side of his head and then lit his cigarette. “Late morning going on towards lunchtime, does that help?”

  “It does. See, you’ve been super helpful already. Any other time you can think about?”

  The husband and wife both shook their heads. “No, sorry,” Mo replied.

  Sara thanked the couple. She and Carla downed the rest of their coffees and left the farm soon after.

  They drove to the final farm in the area, but there was no response when they knocked on the door. “We’ll leave it for now, I think we have enough to be going on with.”

  “Over to the airfield, then?”

  “Correct. Let’s get this out of the way and maybe we can stop by our favourite place, Queenswood Café. We could pick up a takeaway, take one back for Craig as well. We can reheat it in the microwave once we get back to the station.”

  “Sounds good to me. My tummy has started rumbling already at the thought of having one of their chicken burgers and chips.”

  “Easy girl. We have another visit to make first.”

  “I know, but you mentioned food and my stomach reacted.”

  Sara chuckled. “Soon, I promise.”

  The airfield was out in the middle of nowhere. Fair enough, even if it’s small and not very busy, it makes sense to locate it out here.

  They exited the car and walked towards the building with the reception sign over the door. A young man with slicked back hair and a friendly face smiled at them as they entered. “Hello, how can I help?” He tidied up a pile of papers and set them aside in an orange in-tray. Then, he approached the wooden reception desk.

  Sara and Carla flashed their IDs. “DI Sara Ramsey and this is my partner, DS Carla Jameson. We’re here to make enquiries about a plane which possibly took off from here last night.”

  He frowned. “You are? May I ask why? I’m Terry Ford, by the way.”

  “We believe it is connected to a serious crime.”

  His head shot back and his eyes widened. “Serious crime?”

  “Yes, I can’t reveal what that consists of at this time. Did a plane take off from here last night?”

  He reached for a large book on his left and flicked through it. “Yes. One of the smaller planes went out for around half an hour, a short trip for them.”

  Sara shot Carla a quick look and raised her eyebrow. This could be the break we’re looking for. “Would you mind giving us som
e information about the flight?”

  “Of course. What do you need to know? Wait, why don’t we take a seat over there?” He pointed at a seated area off to the left.

  Sara nodded and the three of them settled in the comfy chairs. Carla flipped open her notebook and poised her pen.

  “We’d like to know who owns the plane.”

  He trotted back behind the counter and ran a finger through another book and called over, “Barrows Associates. They’re regular flyers from this airfield and store their plane in one of the hangars.”

  The same people who arranged the interview with Amber. This has to be them. “I see. I don’t suppose it would be possible to see that plane, would it?”

  He hesitated. Then smiled. “I can show you the outside, can’t let you aboard though, not without the relevant paperwork in place.”

  “I understand completely. Can you tell me how many times a week the plane is used?”

  “Just recently it’s been more frequent. They’ve used it three, maybe four times this week already. You said you believe it has been used in a major crime, can you enlighten me on that?”

  “We believe someone might have been either thrown from the aircraft or they possibly jumped. Either way, we’re dealing with a dead body.”

  He gasped. “No! Well, I never.”

  Sara scanned the area outside. “Do you have cameras on site?”

  “You’re going to hate me. I’ve had to put up dummy ones, funds are really tight and… go on, you can lecture me now. Kick my arse around the building a few times if you feel the need.”

  Sara sniggered. “It’s unfortunate, your secret is safe with us. I suggest you rectify that in the future though, running an airfield comes with a significant responsibility. How sure can you be that unscrupulous people don’t use this place to traffic drugs in and out of the county? It used to be rife at one stage in Hereford, so I’ve heard.”

  “God, don’t tell me that. I’ll get it actioned ASAP, I promise. I’ll get a small business loan out if I have to. The thought of criminals using this airfield as their means to transport filthy drugs into the area is giving me the heebie-jeebies. The last thing I want is to be associated with people like that.”

  “Glad you’re prepared to take your business more seriously now. My motto is trust no one, especially in business.”

  “That’s a good motto to have. I would be wise to take a leaf out of your book.”

  “Do you track the flights of the aircraft?”

  “Yes, I like to. What do you need to know? I’ll get the appropriate ledger, and yes, I have a different ledger for every aspect of the business. Weird, I know. I get it from my father, actually. I took over the airfield when he sadly passed away a few years ago.”

  “Sorry to hear of your father’s passing.”

  “Thanks. The business used to be far more profitable in his hands. He cut back on his outgoings a lot in order to make a sizeable profit every year. I’m struggling to emulate his success, and to be honest, some months I struggle to make ends meet. I’ve got no one to bounce ideas around with, I’m single, you see. No family to ease the burden of the stress.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “She died when I was born. It was Dad and me against the world, until his passing. He did his best raising me as a single parent, I suppose.”

  “That’s so sad. What about the Aviation Authority? Or the specific governing body, can’t they give you any worthwhile advice?”

  “I’m in contact with someone, but sadly, not getting the results I need to turn a profit. Anyway, you don’t want to hear about my woes. What can I do to help you with regard to this plane?”

  “What would really help is if you could supply us with a possible flight path the plane has taken this week.”

  “I think I can do that. Let me see. They have to log the mileage and give a reason for their trips. Yes, here we have it, Monday and Thursday, two separate trips to the same place.”

  “Which is where?”

  “An airfield in the Shropshire Hills.”

  “And what reason was given?”

  “A business meeting.”

  “Can you give us an address for the airfield?”

  He read it out for Carla to jot down. Sara’s adrenaline kicked up a notch, she could sense only good things would come from obtaining this information. She had high hopes it would lead them to where Amber was, maybe where Davina was, too. If the two girls were being kept together.

  “I’m going to ask a really big favour of you now,” Sara said, looking Terry in the eye, holding his gaze.

  “Go on, if it is within my realms to help, I will.”

  “That’s great news. I need you to ring me if someone from Barrow Associates logs the plane out again.”

  “Of course. I’ll do that right away.”

  “Excellent. I think we’re done here. We’ll contact the other airfield to see if they can shed any light on things at their end. I can’t thank you enough for helping us out like this, Terry, it could blow our investigation wide open.”

  “Umm… can I ask if the victim was male or female?”

  “Female. Does it matter?”

  He ran a hand through his short black hair. “No, it was stupid of me to ask. Oh my, that’s awful. Glad I could be of service in some small way. I’ll definitely contact you as and when anyone gets in touch to make a booking.”

  Sara and Carla rose from their seats. Terry opened the door and saw them to their cars. “Wait, did you want to see the aircraft? It’s sitting in the hangar over there.”

  Sara smiled. “Thanks, that would be brilliant.”

  They followed him across the tarmac to a large hangar. He pulled open the door to reveal a small plane, although it was larger than Sara had imagined. She withdrew her phone and shot off some photos. “Thanks, we have everything we need for now, Terry.”

  He secured the doors once more and walked back to the car with them. Sara shook his hand. “We appreciate your openness and help, Terry.”

  “Totally my pleasure. I’m keen to work with the police to keep this business above board. I hope the information helps to solve your investigation.”

  “I’m sure it will. Speak soon, hopefully.”

  He waved her card. “As soon as I hear anything.”

  Sara drove away from the airfield and back down the country lane to the A49. “Bloody hell. This could be it, Carla. What do you reckon?”

  “It adds up, the information definitely has legs. How are we going to trace the buggers? We already know that Barrows Associates is a false name.”

  “First of all, we need to think positively. Terry seems a decent chap, I think he’s going to do all he can to assist us when the time comes.”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t put himself in jeopardy in the process.”

  “That’s a valid point, considering they’ve just upped the ante and become murderers. Right, let’s get lunch organised tout suite and then get back to the station.”

  “One question, if I may?”

  “Go for it.”

  “How are we going to ID these people? We’ve got a false name in the email, a false business name under which the plane is registered, and in the email as well, where does that leave us?”

  “Hanging our hopes on Terry informing us when the plane gets booked out again. They’d have to do that in advance, wouldn’t they?”

  “I should think so. Still, I reckon we’re in for a frustrating time all the same.”

  “Yep, I agree. We’ll bounce some ideas around when we get back.”

  “I have a suggestion, if you want to hear it, not sure how you’re going to react to it, though.”

  Sara wagged her finger. “If you’re about to put yourself forward for an undercover role, don’t even go there.”

  “I wasn’t, but now you mention it…”

  “No way. I don’t think we need to entertain going down that route, Carla.”

  “Okay, what about holding a
nother press conference, then?”

  “And say what?”

  “You have the perp on camera, hopefully Craig will have worked his magic on refining the photo by now, put it out there. Or do you not want to do that in case it backfires on us in some way?”

  Sara heaved out a sigh. “Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind. The thing that’s holding me back is whether it will do the women he’s abducted more harm than good.”

  “It’s a real dilemma, granted. Maybe we should make a pros and cons list when we get back to base.”

  Sara laughed. “That thought had crossed my mind as well. Right, here we are. What do you fancy?”

  “Chicken burger and chips. Here’s the money.” Carla dipped into her small handbag but by the time she’d raised her head again, Sara had left the car. “Oi, come back here,” she shouted out of the window.

  Sara turned, grinning, and ran two pointed fingers in a V-sign against her nose. Carla grumbled some expletives and closed her window again.

  Sara joined the small queue at the takeaway window. When it came to her turn, she ordered three portions of chips, two chicken burgers and a cheeseburger for Craig, unsure whether he’d appreciate the chicken variety or not. She paid by card and stepped back to wait for her order. Rather than stand around doing nothing, she decided to give Mark a call. “Hi, just checking in on my favourite husband.”

  He laughed. “Your only husband… ugh, sorry, dumb retort.”

  “Silly man. Stop walking on eggshells, Mark. You’re my husband now. Have I told you lately how much I appreciate having you in my life?”

  “At least once a day, but I never get bored with hearing it. Fill your boots.”

  “Cheeky sod. Where are you?”

  “At your parents’ house. Say hi, everyone.”

  “Hi, Sara, love. Sorry you couldn’t be with us today,” her mother shouted.

  “I’m sorry for letting you down, Mum, it was out of necessity, I promise.”

  “Now, don’t you go saying that. Needs must, as they say. It’s lovely to have Mark all to ourselves for a change. And yes, we’ve been busy pumping him for information about your honeymoon.”